


Moments

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Flash Fiction Weekends, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Murder Husbands, PWP, Smut, Soft Smut Weekends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25545871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: A collection of short stories and flash fiction, each based off of a beautiful word and it's definition.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 38
Kudos: 106





	1. Sweven

**Author's Note:**

> Since I didn't get around to putting out a new chapter to Paper Faces, this will at least sate the need for new material.
> 
> <3 JM

_**Sweven:** _ _(n.) Old English_

_A vision seen in sleep;_   
_A dream._

* * *

The sound of the shower filtered into the quiet morning, rousing Will from deep sleep. He woke slowly, his mind still hazy with the pleasures he had experienced the night before. He moved as if he had all the time in the world, stretching languidly against the pale blue sheets. His muscles ached in the most pleasant of ways, each movement bringing back to him a perfect image of sensual satisfaction, primal in its power. _Who would have thought that capturing a pig could be such a thorough workout?_

Climbing from the warm tangle of sheets, he stretched his back, feeling the vertebrae pop gently into place. Following the sounds that floated through his still fogged brain, he made his way to the bathroom. The lights were off, the grey light of the early morning filtering through the steam rolling out of the shower in a dreamlike haze. The silhouette of the man he sought drew his eyes like a magnet; head tipped back, lips parted as the heat from the pounding water melted into his bones. Will’s gaze hungrily took in the sight, feasting on the flesh so pleasantly presented to him, marveling in his good fortunes. _He is mine._

Hannibal didn’t flinch when Will’s arms encircled him from behind. The animal warmth that radiated from his skin was more pleasurable than the torrent of water that streamed down on them. His lips curled into a pleased smile when he felt the gentle lips on the back of his neck, a light caress of wet satin against his sensitive flesh. It wasn’t until Will’s teeth sank into the juncture between his neck and shoulder that any sound escaped him; a breathy moan that he couldn’t bite down. The bite was deep and so good he wanted to sink into it, drown in the pleasure it offered. Will’s arm came up to support his weight as he licked across the marked flesh, carefully choosing the next location as he traversed the tempting canvas presented to him. Hannibal’s breath hitched as the lips stilled, drew back. The sleep roughened voice in his ear made his heart pound.

“Did the mark hurt, love? I took it deep. Want you to feel it for a few days. Any time your shirt brushes over that flesh, you’ll feel my teeth in your skin.” Hannibal’s breath hitched in his chest as he closed his eyes, absorbing. Needing.

“It hurt no more than I could ask of you.” He could feel the smile on his neck as Will’s hands traveled possessively along his skin, traversing contours of muscle as he worked his way along his abdomen. Easy, comfortable. Still exciting, no matter how many times they did this. Will was a creative man, always finding new ways of surprising him. The teeth in his skin… that was new. He wanted more.

“I want you, Hannibal. Want to feel you around me.” Hannibal was hauled back from his reverie and his heart thumped at the enticing prospect offered, his thighs unconsciously spreading just a little. Will caught the movement and smiled. “Mm?”

“Yes.” 

That was all the profiler needed. A hand placed in the center of Hannibal’s back, demanding. _Bend for me. Let me have you._ Fingers coated in the lube they started keeping amongst the other shower things coaxing. He took his time, circling, teasing but not entering him. The barest brush of pleasure as he held the older man against the shower tiles, one arm around his waist to brace his body. Hannibal was on the verge of begging in a very undignified manner when he was suddenly filled, two fingers fully seated. The bite against his neck came in the same moment, and he was forced to close his eyes, pant back his orgasm. Will chuckled against the new bite, kissing the sensitive flesh to soothe it.

“I want to hear you. Moan it out for me.”

Hannibal felt the pull of the command, rocked back on the fingers that filled him. The sounds pulled from his throat sounded raw, animalistic, needy. A betrayal of emotion. The tongue that flicked out to nip the shell of his ear brought another shaking breath, another quiet moan of undeniable pleasure. 

“Please, Will.” 

The fingers in him stilled, the sharp intake of surprised breath sweeter than any symphony. He heard the pleased smile in his voice as he spoke, voice dripping with unadulterated satisfaction.

“Please what, Hannibal?” The pads of the fingers buried inside him swept across that perfect white point of pleasure, effectively silencing anything but another weak, breathy moan.

“Tell me. What do you want?” Will brushed against his prostate again. The pleasure was so great, it was almost blinding. Hannibal panted, legs shaking.

“Pl- please. Take me.” 

The moment stretched like taffy between them, sweet and sharp. Hannibal never submitted, never asked or begged until Will. Now, there was no before him, no after. Only the moments they shared existed, forever suspended as they moved through time together. Only Hannibal had ever made Will feel like this; both in and out of control, harmonious in the ebb and flow of each emotion. Hannibal’s body was still tight; he didn’t like a lot of preparation, but enjoyed the intrusion, as he called it. Will lined up and pushed forward steadily, feeling the tight ring of muscle yield, but with protest. Hannibal’s breath hitched, the quiet moans released into the damp air.

They took their time, and three more bites, one gentle and pink, one deep and aching and one feral and raised along the skin of his spine finally caused Hannibal to spend, coming so hard he shouted himself hoarse without thought, mind seared with the white hot oblivion of pleasure. Will followed shortly after, curving himself to the doctor’s spine as he came deep within him. Hannibal’s body was so attuned to the younger man he could feel every shudder, every drop as it spilled from his cock into is body. _Another way to mark me. Another way of knowing I belong to you._

They collapsed to the tiles, too tired to leave the warmth of the shower. Will now rested in the vee that Hannibal created for him between his legs, head on his shoulder. Hannibal’s hands worked a gentle lather of soap over his skin, kneading the exerted muscles until Will was almost asleep in his arms. He kissed the side of the other man’s face and in unison, they stood and turned the water off. They dried slowly, as if in a dream. After hanging the towels, Hannibal took Will’s hand and lead him back to bed. He pulled the other man to him, wrapping himself tightly to the profiler’s back. As they drifted back to sleep, Hannibal realized he had once again missed the perfect opportunity to tell him. Those words that hovered between them for weeks now. 

_Not now, though. Now is the time for rest._

***

Hours later, Will was roused from sleep by a sobbing cry coming from the basement. He yawned and kissed the man next to him before reluctantly pulling away. He slipped on a pair of flannel pants and padded out of the room, hoping Hannibal would stay sleeping. When he reached the stairs that lead to the locked door to the basement, he paused, listening for additional sounds. _There._ Another quiet sob emerged. 

He unlocked the door and, disregarding the crying animal bound to the table, procured one of the doctor’s pre-filled syringes. Tapping the side, he slid it into the IV coming from the man’s right arm. Without another glance or thought he slipped from the room and back up the stairs. The crying was effectively silenced. He padded back to the bedroom and undressed, pulling Hannibal to him. The man in his arms stirred, if only for a moment.

“Will?” He smiled, anticipating the words.

“Hmm?” A slight pause, precious and anticipatory. 

“I love you mylimasis.” Will grinned, heart hurling itself towards the stars. He pulled the other man closer, relishing in the warmth of his skin.

“I love you, too. So much. But do me a favor? Tell me when you wake.”


	2. Ukiyo

_**Ukiyo:** (n.) Japanese_   
_Living in the moment,_   
_Detached from the bothers of life._

* * *

The breeze that came off the ocean ruffled Will’s hair as he stood on the balcony, sipping a cool glass of champagne in the darkness. It was the deep breath of night just before sunrise; the cool temperature dropping as the skies tinged with the palest gold. There was no light yet, but Will could feel the dawn pressing into him like a hand. The hotel had been Hannibal’s idea. It wasn’t the only one along the beach that had open balconies, but it was the tallest and had the most unobstructed view of the water. He had fallen in love with it when perusing their options online, and Hannibal had solidified his choice at a glance, even with the astronomical price tag. 

“Money is no object and should not be looked at through the lens of reciprocity. It is enough that you will be there with me, Will.” He had booked the hotel, all doubts washed away in the happiness of time away from the insanity that was their life with the Bureau. 

The doctor was asleep in the wreckage of their bed, exhausted from the rounds of passionate lovemaking that had occurred since they stepped through the door. Will hadn’t had the chance to enjoy the view before his clothes were stripped from his body with a wanton ferocity he didn’t know anybody could possess. Their first round had been pressed against the door to their room, Will’s legs wrapped around Hannibal’s waist as he tried to muffle his cries of enjoyment, biting into the proffered tie as the older man whispered into his ear.

“That’s it. Take for me. Give me everything, Will. I need you.” He had come between their chests, his cock untouched as Hannibal had pounded into his prostate with every stroke, driving into him until he released deep within Will’s body. Will drank down his moans, made him cry out around his tongue as he emptied himself into the profiler’s body. When they stumbled to the bed, they had kissed until their jaws ached, hands roaming across skin, mapping a passionate pathway of scratches and marks like constellations across the skies. An hour later, Will found himself on all fours, begging to come as Hannibal took him, their tempo in time with his heartbeat and rubbing his prostate with the velvet head of his cock with practiced precision. They ordered room service and the girl that brought it had blushed so hard at their state of undress that Will feared she would pass out. The five star restaurant located in the bottom level of the hotel had sent up real crystal glasses. Their flatware was heavily polished silver, the dinner plates fine china. Hannibal had been delighted, eating his steak with gusto as they lounged in bed.

It had been months since Will had kissed Hannibal during one of their late night sessions. The wine had been a deep burgundy, a cup of blood to consummate the shift in their relationship. He had worshiped Hannibal’s cock on his knees that night, worked him with his mouth while the doctor sat back in his chair by the fire, wineglass still in hand, not a piece of clothing, much less a hair out of place. He took his time, relearning what it was to be with a man, using his lips and tongue to sing praises his voice could not articulate. In the end, Hannibal had threaded fingers through his hair and bucked up into his mouth, thrown his head back as he came down Will’s throat as he gently sucked the crown of his cock. To this day, they used that particular suit and the wine as foreplay, and Will spent many hours since that night showing the older man how much he wanted him. Their passion for one another had yet to cool. It burned under Will’s skin, pulsed like a second heartbeat. Every spare moment was spent with the man in the bed. Domesticity had come easily, each as comfortable in one home at the other. They shared keys in the second week of their relationship, exchanging them with a kiss that felt like a promise of bright days and comfortable nights. This was their first trip that was of their own volition, not mandated by the FBI and bodies on the ground. They planned for culture and food, vitamin D on the beach. They had been there for two days so far, and had yet to leave the hotel room. 

Will took another small sip of champagne, watching the sky for the color of dawn to break. It was close now, but still not visible. He felt, rather than heard Hannibal as he approached. Lifting his hand, he offered a second flute of champagne over his shoulder. Hannibal took it from his grasp, wrapping an arm around his waist as he came to stand beside him. The doctor kissed his shoulder before toasting the glass held up for just such a purpose.

“To what are we toasting, mylimasis?” Will smiled at the endearment. It had taken weeks and a threat of Google Translate for Hannibal to admit its meaning, and the admission had ended with sex against the counter in Hannibal’s kitchen. Jack had stopped by not ten minutes after they had finished, and had read the shift in their relationship as if it had been branded into their skin. Hannibal had nodded, encircling Will’s waist with his arm as if he hadn’t just fucked him so hard he could barely stand. The agent had clapped them both on the shoulders, grateful that they had finally taken their relationship to the next level. They had locked eyes in that moment, a silent vow exchanged to never admit to Jack just how long they had been together. The following weekend, they had hosted a small get together for their colleagues at Hannibal’s home. Will had looked happy and astonishingly handsome in his dinner jacket. Hannibal stayed by his side the entire evening, his arm around his waist as they charmed their dinner guests. Will’s demeanor had changed drastically since their relationship had begun; he was calmer, more focused, more in control. It brought Jack peace to know that the relationship had done him so much good. Will had to smile at the thought. If he only knew what form his therapy took, he may not be so happy about it.

“Tonight will mark a year since we met, Hannibal. I think that’s worth a glass of champagne, don’t you?” Hannibal smiled, his eyes dancing. He carefully clinked his glass to Will’s and they both drank deeply. Hannibal pulled the glass from the other man’s hand, setting them both on the small table that sat between the two chairs they were meant to use while enjoying their view. His eyes darkened as he wound his hands into the soft riot of curls that graced Will’s head, bringing their lips together. Their kisses alone were incendiary, passionate in ways Will hadn’t known it was possible to be with something as simple as a kiss. He found he had quite a lot to learn about intimacy when he ended up in the arms of the man kissing him. Passion between them was as easy as breathing, and they took advantage of the other’s insatiable appetites as often as possible. As if on cue, Hannibal eased open Will’s robe, exposing his body to the cool night air. He pushed the material aside and laved at the sensitive skin of his neck as he pinned the younger man against the balcony railing. He worked his way along the skin of his neck, drinking in his moans as if they were ambrosia. Will closed his eyes and gave himself over to the feeling, his breath catching as the older man worked his tongue along the shell of his ear.

“I want to take you on this balcony, Will. I want to feel you clench around me, here in the open air. I want you to spend onto the ground below.” Will moaned, straightening his arms until the robe fell, exposing his body to the last minutes of the darkened skies. The pale yellow was finally making itself known as Hannibal braced his leg on the railing, working a finger against his tightly puckered hole. The lips on his ear smiled, the voice speaking to him pitched low.

“You’re still wet for me, my darling. Do you need me to prepare you?” Will shook his head, bending to expose himself further. The position was submissive, but he didn’t mind. Not with Hannibal. The only man in power in their couplings was not the doctor, but the man who gave to him, and Will was more than ready.

“Take me.” He felt cool fingers grip his hips as the head of Hannibal’s cock breached his body. He knew well enough to seat himself; Will didn’t take kindly to teasing strokes. He liked to be taken, filled, possessed. Will panted into the darkness, reveling in the fullness of Hannibal’s cock, pushing back until he was fully sheathed inside him. They breathed together until Will adjusted. He nodded and Hannibal began to move. The first stoke was enough to drive the air from Will’s lungs, that perfect slide of flesh familiar with flesh. Hannibal knew how to angle, how to drive him to the brink and keep him there until he came so hard, he saw stars. This was not a teasing pace; Hannibal had a goal, and far be it from him to interfere. The speed was breathtaking and it was mere minutes before Will cried out his orgasm, clenching around the gorgeous cock inside him as it filled him. He heard Hannibal’s moan as he climaxed, felt the wet emission deep within his body. As he withdrew, the doctor reached for him, kissing him as if it were their last day on earth. Will smiled into the kisses, his heart full.

They showered as the sun painted the skies with a golden light, and crawled into bed as an endless sea of blue took over where the riot of colors had been just moments before. Hannibal spooned Will from behind, their skin warm and hair damp from their shower. As they closed their eyes, the world woke around them, oblivious to the passion that had been shared by the sleeping men.

***

“That one.” Hannibal swiveled in his seat and followed Will’s glance, catching sight of his chosen quarry. The man very obviously thought himself an alpha male and was busy attempting to coerce a beautiful young woman into kissing him. She was still attempting to be polite, but Hannibal could see her patience growing thin. The slap that came was a surprise to nobody, and when the man stumbled out of the bar 20 minutes later, he was too drunk to see the shadows that stalked him.

His blood looked black against the backdrop of the night sky. Will’s gloved hands were covered in gore as he watched, fascinated while Hannibal cut the man’s throat. He had cried when they first sliced into him, but the pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Will’s righteous fury had seen to that. The blood pouring down his shirt gave testament to the life the man had lived; darkness escaping to end his life. They carried his body to the water, and both gave him a good shove, listening intently until they heard the splash in the sound. Will grabbed the front of the plastic suit the older man wore and brought their mouths together in a searing kiss. Tugging his lip gently, he leaned back and grinned. Hannibal tilted his head to the side, regarding the man in front of him with fondness.

“How did it feel, Will?” Another kiss, gentle this time.

“You know how it felt, Doctor. That’s why you brought me here to experience it again.” Hannibal nodded, looking out over the water.

“You are more yourself than you have ever been, and I am in awe of the man you have become. I will be forever grateful to Jack for bringing us together, even if he doesn’t know the more unconventional activities we share as a couple.” Will laughed and unzipped his suit, rolling it up tightly until it fit in the bag at his feet. It would have to be cleaned when they got back to the hotel. Hannibal’s follow, and they zipped up the bag, stowing it in the trunk of their rental car.

“I have a single regret, you know.” Hannibal looked up, sharp eyes searching Will’s face. 

“And what is it that you are regretting?” Will kissed between his eyebrows, soothing away the obvious worry his statement caused. Holding Hannibal’s gaze, he kissed the palm of the doctor’s hand before laying it against his own cheek.

“Next time, I’ll let you keep a trophy.”


	3. Ceraunophilia

_**Ceraunophilia:** (n.) Greek_   
_Loving thunder and lighting;_   
_Finding intense beauty in storms._

* * *

The rain started in earnest just as Hannibal got home. The claps of thunder that chased bright flashes of lightning across the sky were cannon fire in his ears; at times like this, it was not difficult to imagine Zeus in the heavens, hurling thunderbolts down upon unsuspecting mortals. _You’re going to be one of the unsuspecting if you don’t get inside, and quickly._ Bracing himself, he threw open the car door, slamming it shut before hurling himself towards his front door. The deluge picked up around him as he fumbled with his keys.

“Damn it!” His keyring slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground just as he selected the right key. He bent to scoop them up, dismally remonstrating how much he detested being trapped in a downpour. It wasn’t that he hated the rain, no. Quite the opposite in fact, as long as he wasn’t trapped out in the frigid torrents. Blinking the rain out of his eyes, he fumbled with his key set, searching for the right key. _Why on earth did I make the decision to keep all of my keys for the Bureau office and my home on the same set?_ Just as he triumphantly found the correct key for a second time, he heard a car pull into his driveway, the lights casting prisms along the droplets of water. Startled by the lights, he once again dropped his keys, cursing. He heard a set of hurried footsteps coming up the walk toward him, almost certain who had arrived. He groaned inwardly, wishing for at least the tenth time since the rain started that he had managed to escape his office even five minutes earlier. _Of course he has already arrived. What other fresh hell would it be but being caught fumbling for my keys like an invalid, trapped out in this storm?_

“Hannibal, are you okay?” The voice of his friend soothed through his soul like a warm balm. Standing, he clutched his keys in his hand, blinking through the water as he approached, holding the metal handle of an umbrella to avoid the worst of the rainfall. _Umbrella._ His was tucked safely in his office, locked away in his misguided attempt to declutter his vehicle. _Fool._

Will made his way up the walk, hurrying as much as the rain would allow. Hannibal felt the sudden relief of the umbrella as the younger man drew close, shielding them both. He never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. 

“Ahh Will. I was not expecting you to stop by for some time, and had hoped to have a cup of tea waiting when you arrived. You must forgive me for my current state. I left my umbrella in my desk and dropped my keys.” Will frowned, drawing closer. Hannibal could smell the clean scent of his skin, the touch of cologne he had refreshed when he returned home. The scents mingled with the fresh smell of rain, making his mouth water even as he shook.

“Jesus Doctor, you’re freezing. Were you able to find your keys?” Hannibal held them up in a trembling hand. Will took them gently from his grasp, sifting through them until he found the gold key that fit the front door. “This one?” Hannibal nodded and he fit the key into the lock, pushing the door open and into the dry, hushed quiet of Hannibal’s home. The profiler ushered him inside, as if he were the guest arriving, soaked on his doorstep.

“ Let’s get inside so you can get out of those wet clothes.” The thought moved through the older man’s heart, making it pound. _If only that was his meaning._ Hannibal moved clumsily through the door, sighing with relief as Will closed and locked it behind them. He stood, shivering while the profiler set aside his umbrella, then removed his shoes and coat before looking him over with concern. 

“How long were you out there before I rescued you?” Hannibal’s teeth chattered, making his response inaudible. _Warm. I need to get warm._ His brain felt slow, his movements awkward as he attempted to move into the recesses of his home. His shoes squeaked against the wood of his floors, and Will stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Don’t go marching across your floors in those shoes. They need to be dried properly. Here.”

Carefully, he knelt down and untied the soaked dress shoes the doctor wore, easing them from his feet with care and setting them by the door. He pulled the now soaked socks from Hannibal’s feet, wrapping his warm hands around each in turn as he did so. “Jesus, you’re like an icicle. Did you ride the entire way home with no heat?” Hannibal nodded, looking miserable. Taking the distraught man’s hand, he lead him further into the house. “We need to get you dry and warm, then we can talk about tea and dinner. C’mon , Doctor. I’ll start the shower for you.” Shivering, Hannibal allowed himself to be lead down the hall. The profiler had spent enough time in his home over the past several months that he knew where to go without being directed. Will opened the last door on the left, into his master bedroom, leading him straight through to the en suite. Turning on the light, he released Hannibal’s hand to turn the water of the shower on, adjusting the temperature until it all but blistered down his skin. Turning to the other man, he eyed him carefully, taking in the dark circles and the pale color of his lips. The boom of the thunder caused them both to jump. Will laughed reassuringly.

“That’s quite some storm. Let’s get you into the water. I’ll make a fire out by the kitchen while you get warm.” Together they peeled the wet clothing from the doctor’s body, letting it fall around them on the floor. Will kept his assistance as utilitarian as possible, but Hannibal’s breath still caught in his throat at the gentle touches of his fingers against his chilled skin. As soon as he was clad in just his boxer briefs, Will turned to let himself out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him to keep in the heat. Hannibal removed them and climbed into the shower to sink beneath the spray, letting it’s stinging caress bring his temperature back up. He couldn’t help but wish that the other man had joined him.

***

As he emerged from the bathroom, towel around his shoulders, Hannibal found that Will had taken the time to light the fire in the bedroom as well. He felt oddly touched that the younger man cared enough to ensure that the space in the most intimate room in his home was comfortable. He could smell the delectable scent of black tea and broth wafting down the hall, warming his soul. A small smile played on his lips as he stepped into the closet to find something to wear. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxer briefs, a pair of comfortably worn in jeans, still dark with dye, a white t shirt and a fine, dark red v neck sweater. He contemplated briefly, then pulled a pair of socks from the drawer and slipped them on as well before closing the door to the closet. Taking a brief look at himself in the mirror, he brushed his damp hair out of his eyes and left the bedroom, moving slowly towards the kitchen.

Will had donned the white apron Hannibal had gifted him after the second time they cooked together, tying it neatly around his trim waist. Finding themselves to be very compatible in the kitchen, they often spent hours on the weekends preparing food for the coming week together, and the purchase had saved many of Will’s favorite items of clothing. Hannibal found that cooking together was great way of ensuring he got time with the younger man, as well as making sure he ate something while he was working, an activity often overlooked before he started at the Bureau. As he watched, Will lifted the lid to the pot on the stove and dipped a small spoon into the broth. He blew on it gently before tasting. Without turning around, he said, “Come here and taste this. It’s still missing something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Intrigued at Will’s obvious ability to sense his presence in the room, he made his way around the counter. Taking the proffered spoon, he inhaled deeply before taking a careful spoonful of the deep amber liquid. 

As he waited for it to cool, he glanced up, his eyes meeting Will’s warm blue gaze. Smiling, he lifted the spoon to his lips. “You forgot the cumin,” he said, just before spooning the broth into his mouth. Will laughed, delighted.

“Your nose, Doctor. It’s really something incredible, much like the rest of you.” He stilled, the shock of his admission thunderously loud in the drizzling quiet of the storm. The stood for long moments, both frozen in place and unwilling to break the silence. Will’s face was red, embarrassment clearly etched into his handsome features. He inhaled, clearly meaning to speak when a loud peal of thunder echoed through the house, causing both men to start as the power flickered. Will raised panicked eyes to the doctor’s face.

“I-”

“Will, I-” They quieted and stared at one another from the few inches that separated them. Will took a breath and held up a hand, effectively silencing Hannibal. 

“I’m sorry, Doctor Lecter. I didn’t mean to let my feelings come out the way they did. Let’s just both forget what I just said and enjoy the rest of the evening.” He turned, intent on reaching into the cabinet where he knew the spices were kept. Hannibal stared, his mind racing. _He knows where the spices are kept. He comes to breakfast with me most weekends, we spend Sunday evenings together cooking. We eat lunch every day and he confides in me when things get to be too much. When were we meant to realize that this comfortable friendship could be so much more if we gave it the opportunity?_ He moved closer to the younger man, who was looking for the measuring spoons he had set aside with the earlier spices he used.

“How much cumin do you think I need to add? I think about a half-” His voice was effectively silenced when the doctor spun him around and Hannibal’s lips descended upon his own. Will tasted of tea and rain, fresh and cool as a winter morning. He moaned quietly into the older man’s mouth as Hannibal’s arms looped around his waist, bringing them flush. Their gentle press of lips built like the storm outside; soft and quiet to a clash of teeth and flashing tongues as it deepened. Will set the bottle down and carded his hands through the older man’s hair as he mapped the inside of his mouth, tasting him as if he were a fine dessert, something meant to be savored. Long moments passed before they parted, breathing heavily as they stared with wonder across the small space. Hannibal’s hands still rested on the profiler’s waist, fingers playing over the skin beneath the very edge of his sweater. He smiled gently, watching as Will’s eyes dropped to his mouth.

“I think a half teaspoon will do just fine.” Will laughed and looped his arms around the doctor’s neck. 

“Fuck the soup, Hannibal. Take me to bed.” Hannibal’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide. Stealing another gentle kiss, he took the other man’s hand and lead him from the kitchen.

***

Their clothes disappeared in a flurry of hands and mouths, Hannibal’s sweater and t shirt the first victims to fall. Will’s button down took a little more time, but Hannibal’s patience had dwindled in the end and they ended up shucking it over his head, half the buttons still in place. Belts had been unbuckled, jeans now tangled together on the floor. Underwear was gone in a whisper, and when they had fallen into bed, Hannibal’s heart squeezed when he realized that they both had decided to leave their socks on. Will’s skin was endlessly satisfying to stroke; the noises he made at the lightest touches heaven. When the doctor had reached into the bedside table for lube and a condom, Will had chucked the foil aside, uncapping the bottle in a single movement.

“I’m clean. Tested every six months for the bureau, and it’s been so long, there’s no way. I know you’re clean, too. It’s just… who you are. I don’t want to feel anything but you inside me.” Overwhelmed, Hannibal had nodded and accepted the bottle, slicking his fingers before sliding them between the firm globes of Will’s ass. The gentle circles he made against his entrance had caused the younger man to moan, his hips rocking down of their own volition as he sought what Hannibal offered. When the first fingertip had breached him, his breath hitched in his throat as he cried out hoarsely, stilling as he adjusted to the intrusion. One finger was soon gliding smoothly in and out of him and he silently begged for more. Hannibal had been only too happy to oblige, watching in amazement as pleasure wracked Will’s features. Two had turned into three, and as Hannibal stretched him, he began to beg in earnest.

“Want you. Need it to be you. Inside me, now. Please.” The quiet stream of words issuing forth from his lips were a symphony to the older man’s ears, and it took everything within his power not to come from the sounds. Will watched hungrily as Hannibal carefully slicked his cock, shuddering at the gentlest contact. Parting the younger man’s thighs, he breathed through his teeth has he lined up his cock against Will’s stretched ring of muscle. He reached for Will’s lips as he pressed into him, feeling the molten heat of the profiler’s body surround him. They kissed gently as Hannibal filled him for the first time, stretching him to the seams. Hannibal couldn’t take his eyes from the pleasure-wracked vision beneath him. When he was fully seated, they breathed together, listening to the rain as they allowed Will time to adjust to the fullness inside him. Hannibal could feel him relax, but waited, tasting the column of his throat as his breathy moans filled his ears.

“H-Hannibal… please. I need you to move.” Hannibal nodded, hardly daring to speak. The first slick slide within the tight heat of Will’s body stole the doctor’s breath. Will’s moans cut into cries as they rocked together. Hannibal angled against his prostate, sending blinding sparks of pleasure alight behind his eyes. He set a gentle but steady pace, sheathing himself within the body of the man beneath him, his eyes molten as they watched pleasure chase across his features. They took their time, moving together as this was the thousandth time they were doing this instead of the first. Will’s breath began to hitch in his lungs as Hannibal instinctively picked up the pace, pounding expertly into his prostate like a velvet finger. He reached between their bodies to close around Will’s hard cock, stroking up his length in time with his thrusts. Will at once began to writhe, crying out as the pleasure built to impossible heights. _I want to come, god, please, I want…_

Hannibal watched his face as he stroked him, whispering to him as he worked the younger man’s body.

“Let it come, darling. Do not hold back. Show me how much you’ve desired this. Show me what I am doing to you. Let me feel you squeeze around me.” The words in Hannibal’s deep accented voice tipped Will over the edge and he came with a cry, pleasure sparking down his spine on the waves of his release. He felt the sudden rush of warmth when Hannibal emptied himself deep within him; the pleasure so great it was almost a second orgasm. They rocked together until the sensations were too much to bear, but as Hannibal withdrew, he pulled Will close. They lay together for long moments afterward, gazing at one another in contentment, listening as the rain grew gentler, as if as satisfied by the pleasures they had experienced as the storm reached it's peak. 

Hannibal stood and retrieved a cloth to clean them, but Will met him in the bathroom and shooed him back into the shower, turning on the taps as he reached for the doctor’s lips. They spent long minutes kissing beneath the spray, warm and sated from their lovemaking. When Hannibal finally turned the water off, Will was almost liquidly relaxed. His lover toweled him dry, kissing his neck and shoulders as he worked the cloth over his skin. He left the bathroom and returned clad in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Smiling, he handed Will a pair, which he pulled on gratefully, grinning. They made their way back to the kitchen where the soup was simmering away. Will lifted the lid and tasted the broth again. Turning, he grinned at the doctor, his eyes warm with humor as he held out the spoon.

“You know what, love? I don’t think it needs cumin after all.”


	4. Koi No Yokan

**_Koi No Yokan:_ ** _(n.) Japanese_

_“Premonition of Love”;_   
_The sense one can have upon first meeting_   
_Another person that the two of them_   
_Are going to fall in love._

_This differs from the idea of_   
_“Love at first sight” in that it does not imply_   
_that the feeling of love exists._

_Rather it refers to the knowledge that_   
_a future love is inevitable._

* * *

“Do you remember the first thing you said on the day we met?” Will looked up from his meal, bemused. It had been many months since they had discussed anything from the life that existed before. He swallowed, taking a slow sip of wine before responding. Hannibal was watching him drink, his eyes trained on the spot where the crystal touched his lower lip. The gaze he held was affecting. Everything about France had slowed them down, and their meals sometimes turned into hours long discussions, only eating when they felt hunger. There was time for healing, time for hatred, time for acceptance and, over the course of many months, time for that acceptance to turn to love. The love he felt for the man gazing at him as if nothing else in the world existed was staggering. Their eyes met, and Hannibal raised an eyebrow. Will cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I forgot the question.” Hannibal laughed, the sound open and free in the cool night air. They were dining on the terrace overlooking the distant lights of Paris, and the sight of the doctor’s eyes filling with the illumination of the metropolitan never ceased to fascinate. Will picked up his fork and knife and cut another small piece of meat from his plate, watching Hannibal’s face as he shook his head.

“It is quite refreshing that you choose to admit freely when you’ve gotten lost in thoughts other than our current discussion. It’s… endearing.” Will reached across the table to touch the other man’s wrist, feeling his pulse rush beneath his skin. He heard the sharp intake of breath at the contact. The physical aspect of their relationship was still in its infancy, but both men fell upon it like starved lions. Several days after the first time they made love had been wasted in bed, talking and laughing, allowing their skin hunger to dissipate before attempting to rejoin the outside world. They had eased into sex with the fervency of teenagers, and had found that, as with every other aspect, they were utterly compatible. Will, lost in the reverie of their passions that had taken place just hours before, almost ensuring they were late for the opera, missed the question a second time. Hannibal’s eyes gleamed from across the table as realization of Will’s train of thought dawned on him. Standing, he slowly circled the table, stopping only when he was directly behind his lover’s chair. Leaning down, he let his lips brush the delicate shell of Will’s ear.

“I know that we are still hungering for one another, mylimasis. I feel the pull too. However, it is essential that we still communicate, even when the fever is upon us.” The older man’s hand wound into Will’s hair, gently pulling. Will obeyed, tilting his face upwards. The kiss they shared still held within it a sense of longing, awe that they were able to do this. Nothing he had experienced had made Will’s heart want to heal and break at the same time, but their kisses left him feeling wrecked and put together, like a kintsukuroi vase. Their love and intimacy made him stronger than he had ever been. He panted as Hannibal ended the kiss and returned to his seat, the smile playing on his lips pulling at his being to bring them back together. Will picked up his wine with a trembling hand. 

“Ask me again. I promise, I’m paying attention this time.” Hannibal smiled, sipping from his own glass. The olive oil from their vegetable medley shone on his lower lip. Will snagged on it as he spoke and almost missed the question for a third time. He raised his eyes to meet the bloodstained gaze staring at him with exasperated affection and grinned.

“I heard you that time. I remember the context of the conversation, not the conversation itself. Other than being angry with Jack for bringing you in, of course.” There was nothing more beautiful to Will than the sound of Hannibal’s unguarded, uncultured laugh. His eyes sparkled with it, and his entire being seemed to glow faintly with his mirth.

“It is just a single word, but it was what initially drew me to you, rather than assuming you were another sheep waiting for the slaughter. Think on it. To help you remember, I can tell you the context of the conversation was Freddie Lounds.” Will’s eyes brightened.

“Tasteless. I called Freddie Lounds’s choice to upload the pictures of the shrike’s killing tasteless.” His brow furrowed as he met the other man’s eyes. “Why do you ask?” Hannibal tilted his head, considering his response. 

“You are familiar, I believe, with the concept of love at first sight?” Will rolled his eyes but nodded, wondering where the conversation was going. Hannibal watched him for a moment, his heart thumping quietly as he recalled the moment for himself.

“There is another concept, Japanese I believe. It is not love at first sight, but the idea that when we lay eyes upon another, that we can know in our bones, with that same intuition that we will love that person. While I may not believe in the concept of seeing someone and loving them instantly, I believe there are those we meet in our lifetime that we know without a doubt that we will come to love. It could take many forms; platonic, parental, romantic. When we spoke that first day, I felt something beyond general sympathy for your plight, or the calculated need to take you apart. I saw that you could be more, and that the person you would become would be someone I would grow to care for, if you let me. I did not know at that time the magnitude of what I would feel for you, or that our paths would become so inexorably entwined. I didn’t know it was possible to share this life without restrictions with someone else, but you have managed to surprise me at every turn. I have grown to love you more than I thought it possible to love anyone beyond Mischa. And I do not know what I would do now, should that love ever fade.” His throat hitched at his admission, and he did his best to cover it with a sip of his wine. Will’s eyes glittered in the candlelight, softly filled with affection.

“I wasn’t anything before you showed me what I could be. There was so much I wanted and so much I was afraid of. Fear surrounded me like a straight jacket; cloying and forever tightening its grip on my head and my heart.” His voice was shaking as he toyed with his wine glass, rolling the stem between his hands, watching the blood red liquid move in the firelight. “There wasn’t a time when we were apart that I didn’t reconsider my decision. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was forced to rejoin the fray that is the FBI, and I didn’t think I’d survive the second round. Then came the opportunity to do what I should have done before you were captured. I could take you away, go with you and make something of my life more than what I had settled for. I wanted what you gave me; color and light, mingled with the pains of self discovery. I wanted your love and your hate, your attention. I wanted to be the song you played when your fingers struck the keys of a harpsichord, I wanted to be the name on your lips when you were asked about a significant other. I wanted you, and I wanted to hate you. Does that make sense?” Hannibal nodded slowly. 

“When did you discover that hate had turned to love?” Will considered, watching the wine in his glass.

“I don’t know. I know that love and hate are part of the same large breath, connected to two ends of the golden string that fate deals out to each of us. You can’t have love without some degree of hate, or it’s not real love. It’s a parody of the true emotion. I couldn’t love you as deeply or as desperately as I do without hating you first.” Hannibal stared at him for a long moment without responding. Will stood and walked to the balcony. He placed his hands on the cold marble railing and looked out into the night, breathing in the summer air. He felt Hannibal approach moments before warm arms encircled his waist from behind. He felt hot breath against his neck and shuddered, his body tightening with need. 

“And do you believe that you’ll ever fall away from this feeling, this emotion we have discovered? If you could, would you choose never to have felt it at all? Would you have remained safely quarantined within the bureau, shackled to a job you mostly despised, if you would have known how much blood had to be shed for us to understand what we are together?” Will leaned back into Hannibal’s arms, letting the solid chest take his weight. They watched the lights silently for a moment. Will’s answer was quiet, contemplative when it came.

“No. There is no relationship that doesn’t require some sort of sacrifice. Ours may be more… visceral than others. But it’s the price of the love we share. That’s all that’s important to me.” The arms around him vanished, and he instantly missed their contact. He turned, confused, only to see Hannibal removing something from his pocket. His breath caught in his throat as his heart began to pound. The gaze that met his was filled with fire; warm and all consuming. There was no fear, only happiness and hope.

“I know that it has taken us time to get where we are, but I never want you to doubt that what we have is more than I could have ever dreamed of having. And I want this… what we have and more. I want it forever. I cannot imagine a day without you by my side. Marry me, Will. Be mine forever.” For a moment, the younger man couldn’t speak, so caught up in the rush of emotions threatening to explode from within his chest. His heart was so full, he thought it might burst. Rather than reply, he wound his arms around Hannibal’s neck and kissed him. The kiss tasted of love, hope and promise. Hannibal slid the solid platinum band onto the third finger of his left hand, and he felt it settle against his skin is if it had always been there.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom, but the rug in front of the main room fireplace was soft and warm as they shed their clothes. The firelight caught the metal of Will’s ring they undressed, making it shine. When Will took Hannibal into his mouth, reveling in his texture, his taste, feeling the doctor’s hands wind into his hair, he splayed his fingers against the other man’s stomach so he could see the metal glint on his hand. When Hannibal coaxed him into his lap, he wrapped his hands around his shoulders, ensuring the ring was never out of his sight. Many hours later when they climaxed a second time, it seemed to absorb the love that radiated from their bodies, filling it with a quiet unspoken promise. When Hannibal carried him to their bedroom, he wound his hands around his neck, and still kept his eye on the occupied space of his own hand. It was the reminder that, no matter what happened, he would never again be alone in the world, and nothing was more real than what they shared between them. As they rested together, the ring kept silent watch, ensuring that all that bore witness to its place on Will’s hand would know that they belonged to each other. The love they held would forever be evident within that simple symbol, a light where no darkness would ever reach again.


	5. Retrouvaille

**Retrouvaille:** (n.) French  
 _The joy of meeting or finding someone_  
 _Again after a long separation;_  
 _Rediscovery._

* * *

A soft breeze ruffled the curtains as Hannibal lifted his head, a little dizzy from the long sleep that took them both after their they exhausted eachother in their amorous attentions. Gazing around blearily, he wrapped himself around the man in his arms before returning to sleep, breathing in his scent as he let it pull him back into unconsciousness.

***

Hannibal paused in his sketch, his keen sense of smell picking up the strong scent of aftershave and the clean, pungent smell of hotel soap before Will managed to take a seat. Not daring to hope, he glanced over to find warm, beautiful blue eyes staring into his, a small smile playing on the other man’s lips. Before he could stop himself, the words bubbled forth from his mouth, warm in the hushed quiet of the gallery.

“If I saw you every day forever, Will. I would remember this time.” 

***

The arm around his waist tightened, gathering him close in the arms he had longed for ever since they had sliced open Abigail’s neck. _She is beyond saving, beyond redemption. I cannot hate him if I didn’t love him first. I want this, to be here with him._ As soft lips found the sensitive skin on the back of his neck, he moaned, rolling over to claim the doctor’s mouth.

***

Will’s eyes followed Hannibal’s movements, taking in every inch of his skin like a man finding an oasis after being relegated to a desert for years. Every scratch, every ache, every bit of broken flesh and worry vanished at the perfect, steady gaze, boring into what felt like his very soul. He wet his lips, speaking before he could think of what to say.

“Its strange seeing you here in front of me. I’ve been staring at after images of you in places you haven’t been in years.” 

The words hurt his throat, burned down into the very being of who he was. He wanted to yell, cry, scream. Take the man in front of him and throttle him within an inch of his life, only to tear at his clothes and claim him, run away with him. The thoughts whirled through his mind as his heart glowed at the small smile he was gifted.

***

Hannibal couldn’t resist the sounds Will was making, even as he just woke from sleep. He could feel the longing in Will’s body, the need to be close, even as he slumbered. Tired, exhausted to the bone, he still needed more. _I will never have enough of you._ As their lips met, he felt their erections brush, unsurprised to find that Will felt the same.

***

“To market to market to buy a fat pig. Home again, home again jiggity jig.” 

Will’s eyes had lit up at the inane rhyme he recited from memory, his brain and mouth no longer connecting but the need to see his happiness so deeply profound, he resorted to child’s stories. Will licked his lip before replying, and it took everything in Hannibal’s body to keep from pressing his mouth to the same point of contact in hopes of pulling the sweet taste of his longing into himself. I _need you. I want you. I long for you._

_***_

Will felt the brush of hard flesh against his own and moaned into Hannibal’s mouth, the sound captured and swallowed as they kissed. The bed was comfortable, soft beneath them, and Will had never been happier to find someplace to lay. He wanted to sleep, to rest, but the need to do so wasn’t as strong as the need to claim the man in his arms. _Love and hate are two ends of the same rope_ , he thought. _Let’s hope we do not hang ourselves with the wrong end._

He rocked against Hannibal’s body, relishing in the moan he elicited before rolling him onto his back. 

***

“I wanted to understand you before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be… clear. What I was seeing.” 

Hannibal’s heart was pounding, beating a timpani in his chest as if it were trying to escape and leap to Will. _After all this time, perhaps we can now understand one another. You see me. I see you. Let it be the path to forgiveness._

***

Hannibal gave in to Will’s need to roll him onto his back, hand around the former profiler’s back to ensure they rolled together. Their mouths locked in a passionate kiss as hands parted fabric, seeking the skin beneath. Hannibal’s breath caught when Will’s hips rocked down, pressing their erections together, creating delicious friction. Holding the other man’s hips, his tongue stole into his mouth, tasting. When their lips parted, their eyes met, the look more intimate than sharing their bodies.

“Hold my hips, Hannibal. I want to ride you.”

***

“Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?”  
“Mine? Before you and after you.”

Will let the admission hang between them, the knowledge that he had been irrevocably changed by their encounters. _Did you know then? Did you know that I would grow to love you, need you? If you did, would anything have changed?_

***

Will felt the delicious, wet slide of the lubricant he applied generously between their bodies. As he gripped Hannibal’s swollen cock for what could have been the second or hundredth time that day, he felt his body tense in aroused excitement. He braced his hands on Hannibal’s chest, carefully ensuring he didn’t press on any bruises, before lifting himself enough to feel the blunt tip of his shaft breach him. Without preparation, it stung, but even the pain was sweet, especially with the look of complete adoration in the eyes of the man beneath him. Leaning down, he captured his lips as he took him in, their moans swallowed in the kiss.

***

“Yours? It’s all starting to blur. Mischa. Abigail. Chiyoh. “  
“How is Chiyoh?”  
“She pushed me off a train.”  
“Atta girl.”

Hannibal smiled fondly at his memories of Chiyoh, the girl who had come into his tender mercies at so young an age, tasked with keeping the last of Mischa’s murderers captive. He wondered vaguely what she thought of Will, and decided that if she pushed him from the train, she would have considered him a threat.

_Unsurprising, my dear. The best kittens have teeth._

***

Hannibal drew in a sharp, tight breath as he felt the heat of Will’s body engulf him, the tight warm muscle working over his straining erection like a perfect, velvet hand. He gritted his teeth and begged himself not to come on the spot as Will shifted his hips, testing his comfort. It was almost too good, especially with Will gazing down at him with dark adoration, watching his struggle with delight etched into his features. Their hands gripped as Hannibal pulled him into a kiss, willing himself to have some restraint.

***

“You and I have begun to blur.”  
“Isn’t that how you found me?”

The look on Hannibal’s face as he looked over, quiet hope to be understood plainly in his gaze, made Will’s heart squeeze. _I found you because I have your scent. I know who you are and of what you are capable. I know what it’s like to be alone with you, and to be lonely beside you, afraid to ask for what I want in you. We are alike you and I. Alone because we are unique. But we can find solace and comfort in eachother, if we can put the past behind us._

_***_

Will’s fierce joy in watching Hannibal try to calm himself caught him off guard. He immediately wanted more of what that expression offered: Heat, warmth, light. He wanted his orgasm, the sweet relief it would offer, but he wanted to watch Hannibal come undone more than he wanted to breathe. The pace he set was quick and deep, each roll of his hips bringing a quiet cry from Hannibal’s throat. Catching the doctor’s hands, he placed them on his hips as they found a rhythm together, chasing their pleasure.

***

“Every crime of yours feel like one I’m guilty of. Not just Abigail’s murder, every murder. Stretching backward and forward in time.”  
“Freeing yourself from me and me freeing myself from you. They’re the same.”

Hannibal watched the beautiful eyes that gazed into his become cool and calculating. He longed for the warmth of familiarity, almost as much as he longed to press his lips to Will’s mouth.

  
 _If only I dared to hope_ , he thought bitterly.

***

Hannibal let Will set their pace, only moving as he permitted him to, watching his features tighten in the pleasure he took from his body. The orgasm he sought was rushing towards him with the speed of a freight train, more dizzying than the last they shared before sleep. He could feel his balls tighten as Will rode his body, the moan escaping his lips before he could quell it. They rocked together in ecstasy and as their pleasure peaked, they let it wash away another piece of the pain that held their past so firmly in place, eroding another brick of the foundation of what they were. _In time_ , thought Hannibal, _those bricks will build the foundation of who we will be._

_***_

“We’re conjoined. I’m curious whether either of us can survive separation.”

Will watched Hannibal’s face as he carefully contemplated the statement presented to him, his eyes still drinking in Will’s features. _I never want to be apart from you again. Can you see the hole your absence has left? Is it etched into my skin, branded on my soul the way it feels it is? Can you see my need on me, as I can see the desire burning in your eyes?_

Without thinking, he didn’t wait for Hannibal to answer. instead, he brought their lips together in a gentle kiss.

***

“I was planning to kill you, you know.” Will spoke from the soft mat of fur against his face, listening to Hannibal’s heartbeat in his ear. _It must be clear between us before we can draw the line in the sand between what was and what will be._

“I know. I saw the knife in your pocket, and I knew what it meant when I saw it.” Hannibal ran his hand down Will’s back, enjoying the play of muscle beneath his hands. “What changed your mind?” Will snorted, raising his head to claim the doctor’s mouth in another searing kiss.

“Are you sure I’ve changed my mind?” Will felt Hannibal nod thoughtfully, shivering as the doctor’s fingertips caressed the skin along his spine.

“Yes. In the same way I’ve changed my mind about eating you.” Will’s eyes widened as he lifted his head, regarding the calm maroon eyes staring into his own. His heartbeat stayed slow and steady; there was no danger in his words. _Not anymore._ Will rested his head against Hannibal’s sternum, enjoying the animal warmth of his body.

“What changed your mind?” He could hear the smile in the reply.

“Your kiss, mylimasis. What changed yours?” Will grinned, rolling over so Hannibal could rub his back.

“The fact that I realized I’d miss you. I could hardly kill you off, now that I find you interesting.” Hannibal laughed, the sound rumbling low in his chest, sending skittering vibrations down Will’s spine. They stayed quiet for long minutes, absorbing one another’s presence.

“What are we going to do now, Hannibal?” Hannibal kissed the back of Will’s neck and pulled him close, resting his nose in the curls at the base of his neck.

“That is very much up to you. I can only hope that whatever it is, we do it together. I very nearly didn’t survive our first separation. I am not sure I would survive a second.” Will’s eyes drifted closed, safe within the arms of the man he loved, the feeling too large and fragile to express just yet.

“Together or not at all. And Hannibal?”

“Mm?”

“I really do forgive you.” Hannibal smiled against his curls and pulled their bodies closer together.

“We have forgiven eachother, Will. The past is crumbling away, the future is unknown. I suggest we use the present as a chance to appreciate how far we’ve come.”

“Mm. Sleep now? You’ve worn me out.” Hannibal tilted Will’s face back, claiming his mouth in one more sweet kiss before they settled together.

“Yes. Sleep now. We will figure it out when we wake.”


	6. Quiescent

_**Quiescent:** (adj.) Latin_   
_A quiet, soft spoken soul._

* * *

For years, Hannibal had kept journals of the day to day happenings that made up his existence, hoping that when he was finally captured, the collection of the moments in his life would bring some clarity to the events of the catalyst that changed him into the man he would later become. As he took up psychiatry, his collection of one journal for his personal thoughts turned into multiple; each containing information on various patients and subjects of which he took an interest. Over time, he kept his personal journals for the events in his life that had such an impact, they changed some fundamental way of thinking or behaving. It was rare he had a chance to add to them these days; little about the world surprised him beyond the scenarios he himself created, and those acts had a journal all their own. 

Today, a day that began like any other, something changed. After his encounter with the head of the department for Violent Crimes of the FBI, he found himself in the need to mark an event so profound, he wasn’t sure that the walls of his memory palace would be able to contain it. After showering and donning a comfortable pair of gray sweatpants, the doctor poured himself a glass of wine, taking a small sip before he made his way down the hall to his office. Closing the door quietly behind him, he padded across the familiar room to the desk that took up most of the space on the far end. Taking a seat, Hannibal opened the middle drawer of the desk and removed the worn leather bound book from where it had sat for months, unneeded and unopened. Turning on the lamp, he stared at it for long moments before reaching for a pen, breathing deeply as he recalled the moments he had spent in the presence of Will Graham. He studied his neat, looping writing on the previous page without reading it, letting his mind wander for a time before uncapping his pen, wondering where to begin. Best do these things from the beginning, as it were. Pen to paper, the only sound in the room the minute scratches of nib to paper, he began to write.

_Hello again, old friend,_

_It has been many months since I’ve found a need to pen anything within your pages. My last kill went wholly undiscovered, much to my disappointment. I believe I may have gotten myself into the poor habit of forgetting the most important aspect of butchering meat: Presentation matters._

_I’m getting distracted. There are much more interesting events for me to lay down amongst your pages, my dearest secret keeper. Today, I met a man who I feel myself drawn to in ways I am not sure I yet fully comprehend. It isn’t just his physical appearance, although I must confess I find myself admiring him the way I would a fine sculpture in Uffizi . He is not overly tall or well built, but his face is delightfully expressive, displaying the inner goings on within his mind far more often than I believe him to be aware. He attempts the life of a quiet soul, but he is so much more than that. The deep blue of his eyes betrays his emotions far quicker than any other aspect of his being, although he is not shy about letting his feelings be known, sometimes with explosive results. He has a sense of melancholy about him, a fascinating juxtaposition of possessing the ability to read and feel anything about anyone in the room while simultaneously distancing himself into a realm of non feeling, non being. When I met him, I knew in an instant that he did not want to be there, nor did he want me to encroach upon his territory. The ferocity of the second sentiment was endearing. I could feel his eyes boring into me from where I studied the complexities of the collective mind of the Violent Crimes unit of the FBI, some 15 feet from where he sat. He is not a shy boy, quite willing to let his displeasure be known. I confess I may have provoked him into speaking to me about his mind more than he found comfortable, but I believe it will be important to have a foundational understanding of how much he can truly see and feel, so I am able to gauge how best to gain his trust._

_I find myself preoccupied with thoughts of him, even now as I sit in my own home. We spoke for all of five minutes, and, in my own greed, I want to know more about him, everything he has to offer. I want to know what it would be for him to be completely at my mercy. How it would feel to break apart his barriers. His force of presence is intoxicating, and I want to preoccupy him beyond assessing and understanding his beautiful mind. I want very much to discover what would make his mouth fall open in pleasure, even as his eyes closed, robbing me the sight of the startling blue. He seems… starved of human intimacy, and as much the possibility of manipulating him to his darker nature fascinates me, I want to end his suffering in this regard. Familiarity with small gestures will be necessary, ensuring he becomes drawn to me for the relief and comfort that touch can bring. From there… if this were a perfect world, I would love to taste his mouth. There is something about his sharp wit, his ability to speak his mind that makes me want to silence him with the brush of my lips on his. He has a beautifully formed mouth. It was made to be kissed, to be stroked with a thumb as he moans. His neck, long and pale, also delights my appreciation for aesthetics. He has an exquisitely proportioned form, one that I would enjoy tasting, touching, having. While I long to see him in a three piece suit… something rich and dark, well fitted with many pieces made for peeling from his form, I found myself enjoying the simplicity of his style of dress. He did not feel the need to impress with fashion. He exists within his sphere, comfortable in his own space. His hair is a delightfully disarrayed tumble of curls. I want to plunge my hands into it, to control our kiss with the tender tugs of my fingers. It looks as if it would be soft to the touch. I’m sure he would like massages to his scalp, fingers running gently through his curls in the wake of shared passion. I relish the very thought of the mutual discovery of the things he might enjoy. I confess, I also envision using his hair to control his mouth as he brings me pleasure. I pictured this particular act while we were discussing the Shrike case today, much to my own embarrassment. I had to cover my longings with probing questions into his psyche to cover my need for a different type of probing altogether. He has a mouth made for kissing, for fucking, for passion and emotion. It will be difficult to keep those thoughts to myself, but I endeavor to try, at least until the time when I can make my intentions towards him crystal clear. He will be mine._

_Jack has asked me to speak with him and evaluate his mind’s fitness to perform the duties of his position, including any and all needs the Bureau chooses to lay at his feet. It clears his consciences to know that someone else will be making sure that Will’s psychological stability is sound enough that he can chase the killers Jack cannot hope to catch without him. While I do not believe it to be in Will’s best interest, I will indulge this request for now, simply to ensure we spend more time with one another. Tomorrow, I am to pick him up at home so we can work through the Shrike case together, but he doesn’t know that just yet. I believe I will surprise him with breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day, and I doubt Will sees many good meals. Perhaps with time, that is something I can work towards correcting. To see how he reacts, I shall add some sausage of my own making to his meal. There is debate amongst many psychological researchers on the effects of eating human flesh, knowingly or unknowingly. I would like the chance to see how he would react to this addition. Should it be favorable, as I hope it will be… Will may be a creature beyond my wildest imaginings. A man can hope, old friend. A man can hope._


	7. Metanoia

_**Metanoia (n.) Greek** _   
_The journey of changing one’s_   
_Mind, heart, self, or way of life;_   
_Spiritual conversion._

* * *

_Hannibal was right. Blood does look black in the moonlight._ Even when Will was wrapped close to the doctor’s body, resting as his blood dripped from his shoulder and down his face, the glossy liquid blended in with the surroundings. Everything was washed clean of color, painted in shades of black and white, giving the scene of their kill an ethereal, dreamlike quality. The Dragon lay mere feet from them, his eyes open and staring up at the stars, his life force already departed for whatever waits on the other side of the veil. Will surveyed the body with the fascinated detachment of a student studying the sculpture of a master; an extraordinary masterpiece created from the basest materials available. _We could be the next Michelangelo_ his mind whispered to him, _if Michelangelo was two men instead of one and used real bodies instead of carving his own from marble._

Hannibal’s grip on his arm brought him back to himself as the pain from the blows Dolarhyde had dealt began to set in. His face felt as if the skin had been flayed, and his shoulder ached with such a ferocity, Will knew that if they survived this night, he may lose some of the movement in it; he could already feel where the muscles had been sliced through. It would take months, if not years to heal properly. Hannibal clung to him, just as surely as he clung to the doctor. They were holding eachother up, their temples pressed together as they breathed, heartbeats settling into the same rhythm as they relished in their victory. Will couldn’t take his eyes off of the body in front of him, even as the pain returned.

“It really does look black in the moonlight,” he whispered, unconsciously voicing the thoughts now swimming through his subconscious. Hannibal gripped his shirt, ensuring he remained upright as he panted through his exhaustion. 

“See?” he said, his voice low and soothing even through his obvious fatigue. Will wrapped his arms around his shoulders, bringing his uninjured cheek to rest against Hannibal’s face, breathing in the scent of sweat and blood as they held one another. They were standing on the precipice of something new, terrifyingly unknown, and the only thought Will could muster was how he had missed the scent of Hannibal’s skin when they were pressed together like this. Hannibal’s lips found his ear, gently grazing the delicate shell as his fingers dug into Will’s shirt. 

“This is all I ever wanted for you, Will,” he panted. “For both of us.” Will closed his eyes, his mind replaying the death he had caused, remembering the feel of the Dragon’s flesh parting as he sliced into him, like a knife sinking into butter. Even as his lifeblood poured over Will’s hands, he couldn’t help the feeling of bone deep satisfaction he got from besting the beast.

“It’s beautiful,” he croaked, emotions he was unaware of feeling overwhelming him as Hannibal’s words washed through his soul. Their eyes met for the first time since Dolarhyde’s demise, and as they stood, wrapped in their embrace, Hannibal’s glance found Will’s mouth. He stared, wondering if he dared, if now was the time. Will took the decision from him, gripping onto his shirt tightly as he leaned back, leaned so far over that they began to fall. Hannibal realized a fraction too late what he meant to do, and as they pitched over the cliffside, he pulled the profiler to him, feeling alive at last even as they plunged to what was likely their demise. 

It was in midair that their lips met for the first time, their breath and warmth shared as the water below came ever nearer. As they hit the black abyss, they held on for as long as possible, exhaustion finally getting the better of them as they floated away with the tide. Even as death tried to drag them down, they unknowingly shared a last thought, borne away in the crushing depths of the water. _I love him. This is what we are meant to be. If it’s only in this moment, so be it._

_***_

Hannibal sat up in bed, the sheets clinging to his sweat soaked body as he reached across the warm expanse for where Will lay asleep. The dreams of their last night as Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham hadn’t crossed his mind in many years, and the memories of who they had been now clung to him like the gossamer of spider webs, reluctant to release him from their sticky embrace. In their wake, the doctor could feel the ache in his side where the bullet wound had taken its time to heal. The saltwater had helped to purify the wound, but it had been hours before Will had been able to stitch it closed, and nights like tonight made it itch like a phantom limb. He scratched the scar idly as he watched his husband sleep on, gazing into his perfect face and wondering if he would be able to go back to sleep if he didn’t rouse him. _Just long enough to ensure that this isn’t the dream_ , Hannibal thought. 

As if summoned by Hannibal’s swirling inner turmoil, Will’s eyes cracked open, meeting his gently in the dark. Hannibal’s breath stilled in his chest, his heart squeezing gently as the astonishing blue of Will’s eyes met his own blood and gold gaze. The shock of intimacy of their glances hadn’t yet eroded, even after the three years they had spent with their lives completely entwined. Will still had the ability to thrill him with a single look, bring his blood to the surface until they fell upon one another in the heat of heady arousal. Will smiled and held out his hand, beckoning Hannibal closer with a gesture. Without hesitation, Hannibal allowed himself to be wrapped in the tanned, muscled arms, held against his husband’s warm chest as they breathed together. His blood began to slow as he absorbed the sleepy warmth of the man he clung to without a shred of embarrassment. He felt the dream slip away, as if the tides from which they were reborn had come to claim it. Will kissed the top of his head before tilting his face up to meet his own. Their lips met in the silvery moonlight that poured through the open doors of the terrace, washing their bodies and surroundings into shades of black and white.

Will tipped Hannibal gently onto his back, letting the kiss guide their passion, as he claimed the doctor’s body. There was no play of power to sex; each man gave as often as he took. Tonight, Will moved gently within him as Hannibal wrapped his legs around his waist, his heart aching just a little. He clung tightly to Will’s shoulders as his body was pinned open, dragged into Will’s lap as he deepened his thrusts. The cries that issued forth from his throat spoke only of love, a need so pure it was it’s own form of ecstasy. They took their time, their bodies painted pale by the moon as Will washed his soul clean from the memories that burned in his mind, helping him lock them away once again inside his memory palace, behind a door he didn’t often choose to peruse. When they finally came, Hannibal’s voice was ragged from his cries and the new bite mark his shoulder bore ached enough to cleanse him of the phantom pain from his scars. Will took his time cleaning the other man’s body, washing him reverently with a warm cloth and a bowl of water, whispering to him in broken French how much he adored him. For once, Hannibal didn’t correct him, but used the words as balm to seal away the last of the dream, calm at long last. He allowed himself to be pulled back into Will’s arms when he climbed back into bed, clean and utterly perfect. He lay his head upon Will’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowed.

As they drifted back to sleep, the last thought that crossed Hannibal’s conscious mind was how truly lucky he had been to have fallen from the bluff that night, so many years ago. In the wake of destruction had come resurrection, a rebirth of his soul and body. Gone was the man he had been, cold and calculating, so often bored that he took to wanton destruction without purpose. The night held them close in its colorless embrace, but Hannibal’s world had been just as irrevocably changed as the man he married; Will had given him back color and light, gave his life a meaning he didn’t know he was missing. They slept on, free of dreams of the old life they left behind. Instead, their nighttime wanderings were replaced with all the love and laughter any life could hope to hold, and nothing could be better.


	8. Sonder

_**Sonder:** (n.) German_   
_The realization that each passerby_   
_Has a life as vivid and complex_   
_As your own._

* * *

Will loved to people watch. Everyone else’s lives seemed so much calmer, more real than his own, and he liked to imagine what it would be like to have normal thoughts and worries. It could also be a bad habit, especially when he let his mind drift and someone caught him staring. He’d often find those who crossed his path hurrying away, glancing back to ensure he wasn’t following them. It wasn’t as if he meant to cause others any alarm. By the time each subject became aware that they were in his field of vision long enough to make them uncomfortable, he’d often been staring through them his mind adrift in a sea of possibilities. He found the practice relaxing and grounding in a way nothing else in his life was capable of making him feel. So often was he emotionally compromised by his work that when he had the opportunity to be amongst those who had nothing to do with him, he often daydreamed of what their lives must be like. What did they do for a living? Where did they reside? Why did they choose to take their coffee with so much sugar, or worse, black as night without a thing to dilute the bitterness? Who did they love? Who loved them? He loved the mystery that the lives that brushed against his in passing presented; they were puzzles he didn’t have to converse with the dead to solve.

It was when someone would bring it to his attention, this small, harmless bit of daydreaming, that he would once again withdraw into himself, seeking an internal outlet for the emotions he tried desperately to keep under control. These days, relegated to a classroom as often as he could be, Will chose not to use the abilities he possessed to read the intentions behind crime scenes nearly as often as Jack Crawford would like, but he still did it enough that his mind often trapped itself in the horror of what he saw during those moments. He hated it almost as much as he hated the pitying looks he got from everyone in the vicinity that bore witness to his recreations. _Poor Will. Losing his mind. Poor Will, can’t keep it together, even when there is no body to view, only the impressions of where it lay. Poor Will, can’t get himself back out of the minds he falls into._ Even the therapist he was forced to see at the Bureau couldn't seem to keep the looks from his face these days. Will hated it. So he stared at others, wishing desperately he could assume their lives, hand over the reins to his own existence, even for a moment. 

Anything to bring peace.

He chose the park today. He kept this place for the worst days, his solitude all but guaranteed as he made his way to its center, his own personal labyrinth. He took a seat on the same bench he used last time, comfortably hidden within the shade of the trees that surrounded the area, big old oaks that shaded the running path he used to watch the world go by. He let the minds of those who ran by him flicker through his consciousness briefly, healing him fractionally each time he was able to adopt who they were for just a moment. Today, the main attraction had been a man in his early 50s, so obviously out of shape that it took less than ten steps for him to give up the pretense of running. He wondered about the man’s wife, his job, his obvious desire to abandon the foolishness of his diet and exercise regimen in favor of the diner on the outskirts of the park. He watched as the man’s gaze drifted more and more often to the prize offered in the food the diner served, much more pleasant than the thought of continuing his run. In the end, his hunger won out and he trotted off the path to his car, heading in the direction Will had predicted. Will couldn’t blame him, but the internal struggle had been a hilariously welcome reprieve from the body totem circling around behind his eyes, waiting for him to put his guard down so it could come to the forefront in all its horrific glory.

It wasn’t until he had been there for over an hour, watching those who came across his path as he pretended to read, that he noticed the gentleman watching him unabashedly from the opposite side of the path. His breath stopped, heart pounding hard in his chest as he took in the pristine black suit, white shirt with a button open at the throat, drawing his attention to the triangle of tanned flesh offered up to his eyes like a feast. His mind went quiet as he took in the little details; the straight and shining silver and gold hair, falling into the other man’s eyes as he observed Will from beneath his lashes as he feigned interest in the food in his lap. The way he sat, so casual with an ankle crossed over his knee, presented the perfect picture of ease and comfort, but Will had more experience than the average onlooker. There was something about the position that betrayed the casual disinterest the man tried to exude, almost as if he was up to something. 

It took him by surprise when the man stood, placing the lid back on his container before striding across the walkway purposefully in the direction of Will’s bench. Will hesitated, running a hand through his hair as the man approached, his stride exuding a confidence that Will found as irresistible as the rest of the man. He stopped a foot from where the profiler sat, meeting his eyes with curiosity.

“He- um, hello,” Will stammered, watching the man’s impassively pleasant features, certain he was staring into a mask. “Can I help you with something?” The man continued to stare as if he was deciding how much to say.

“I have seen you here before. Watching others as I observed you.” Oh Jesus. He has an accent. The thought flitted through Will’s subconscious as he tried to think of an appropriate response. The man was one of the most attractive people he had ever had the pleasure of speaking with. It did not help Will find the words he so desperately wanted to speak. Clearing his throat, he glanced away from the stranger’s gaze, trying to pull his jumbled thoughts together.

“Ye-, ah, yes. I do that. It helps me, you see. It relaxes me to imagine the lives others must lead.” Chancing a look into the other man’s face, Will’s heart pounded. It had opened up in understanding, making his features even more attractive than they were in quiet contemplation.

“I take it you have a difficult time with observations of another kind then,” the man said, taking a seat on the bench beside Will. “I understand that sentiment better than you may think.” Will’s knees went weak as he breathed in the sharp, spicy scent of the other man’s aftershave, the proximity almost more than he could bear. He cleared his throat once again, trying to put together his thoughts. _Christ, he’s attractive. What interest could he possibly have in me?_

“Um, yeah. Something like that. My job requires me to go to places I’d rather not delve into, and sometimes it leaves my mind a little vulnerable. This,” he said, gesturing around him, “helps center me again.” The man nodded thoughtfully, glancing around at their surroundings. Will took the moment to look at his mouth, the soft, sensual contours that curved into a soft, pleasant smile. His heart did a flip as he wondered wildly what the strangers lips tasted of. _Jesus, Will. Where did that come from? You don’t wonder about the taste of a complete stranger’s kiss. Get a grip._

“I see. And what type of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?” Will’s mind tried to shut down, close the doors that had been blown open by the disarming nature of the stranger sitting beside him on the bench. Rather than his typical canned reply, he found himself speaking the truth.

“I teach at the FBI academy for the Baltimore field office. I also work as a consultant for the violent crimes unit, helping them solve cases they don’t understand.” The man turned on the bench and met his eyes; Will was startled that they were not brown as he had first thought, but an odd mixture of maroon and gold. He felt himself falling into the gaze, wanting the man to continue to speak to him, if only for a moment.

“That sounds like fascinating work,” he murmured softly as Will turned unconsciously to face him. Understanding the nature of your work, I can understand your need to observe humankind in its natural environment, far from the crime scenes you must have to bear witness to in order to be of assistance to the FBI,” he continued quietly, looking down at the container in his hands. “I often find myself in need of a bit of normality after my more trying days.” Will’s heart squeezed; this man was not only asking him for information, but providing it as well, as if they were friends. S _omething that has never been within my grasp._

“That’s just it,” he said, studying the man’s profile. “I just need to reconnect with people that are still amongst the living, people that don’t have to wade through the shit I have to every single day.” The man nodded once again, his eyes drawn across to where he had been seated. An older woman and young boy had taken his place, the child unwinding the string of a kite he appeared overly excited to fly. The woman looked on with exasperated fondness as he refused her help in untangling the string. 

“It sounds like you don’t often have someone to whom you can express such emotions. You can often find solace in speaking your feeling aloud, releasing them into the universe so they are no longer housed within you alone.” Will smiled nervously, watching as the child relinquished his kite to his mom, watching with impatience as she finished untangling it. He stood, brushing off the legs of his slacks before regarding the man next to him. 

“While that’s an idea,” he said, staring into the bloodstained gaze meeting his own contemplatively, “I don’t often find it easy to open up. Everyone tries to analyze me, instead of helping, and I hate being psychoanalyzed.” Glancing at his watch, he was surprised by how much time had passed. He had a lecture to write up that afternoon, and another case to try and piece together. _Not that the photos for it will be going anywhere_ , he thought bitterly. 

Turning towards the man on the bench, he nodded towards him in farewell. “I apologize, but I have to get going. It was nice talking with you.” Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel, walking quickly from the bench and the park, trying not to think about the beauty in the man’s eyes, or running his hands through the fine hair as their lips met. So wrapped up in his daydream, he didn’t hear the footsteps beside him until the gentleman put his hand on his arm, startling him out of his reverie.

“You may not have anyone now, but you always could,” the man said, holding out a business card. “I am a psychiatrist by trade, and would be happy to listen, should you ever want an ear.” Will took the card in shaking hands, nodding. His stomach dropped at the word psychiatrist. _Of course. Professional curiosity, just like the rest._ The thought distressed him more than he wanted to admit.

“Thanks, but I’m required to see someone at work,” he murmured, pocketing the business card. “No reason to pass my nightmares onto anyone else. He’s paid to wade through the worst of us.” The man smiled, mirth breaking across his features like the rising sun. Will couldn’t help but be dazzled in its wake. _Christ he’s attractive. Why does he have to be so damned attractive?_

“You don’t seem to have gotten far with him, or you wouldn’t find the need to be someone else from time to time.” He tilted his head contemplatively for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. “Let me offer my services in a more casual setting then,” he said, retrieving another card before handing it to Will. He took it curiously, pocketing it as well, meeting the stranger’s eyes. 

“That card includes my personal contact information, including my cellular number. Should you choose to contact me, perhaps we can have dinner instead of a session in my office,” the man said conversationally. “It may help you decide if you want someone around to whom you can speak about such matters of the mind. Someone,” he said, glancing down at Will’s lips, “that might actually want to listen.” Will stood, dumbfounded as the man turned, heading back in the direction of the bench.

“I don’t even know your name!” he called, just to see the man’s face one more time. He turned, a gentle smile lighting up his features.

“It’s on my business card. Contact me if you’d like to have dinner some night.” The man walked away, leaving Will standing in the middle of the park, unable and unwilling to move from the spot as he watched the retreating silhouette.

***

Later that evening, Will pulled the card from his pocket, his fingers trembling as he keyed in the number, checking it prior to typing in his message. Before he could lose his nerve, he pressed send, watching at the message indicated it had been delivered. Holding his breath, he took another drink of his scotch, watching as the message was seen.

[08:14PM] **Hello, Doctor Lecter. It’s Will Graham, the man you met at the park today. I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer… to listen.**

He waited, watching as the bubble appeared, indicating that the doctor was typing. 

[08:16PM] _Hello, Will. I’m glad you chose to contact me. I’d very much enjoy the pleasure of your company, in any capacity you choose. What did you have in mind_.

Grinning, Will began to type, a hopeful bubble rising in his chest. The week might just be looking up, after all.


End file.
